


Detained

by yawa



Category: Marvel, Peter Maximoff - Fandom, X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Normal High School, Birthdays, Don Quixote - Freeform, F/M, High School AU, Might Edit This Later, Reader Insert, he is a still a mutant, he is in dentention, i still call x-men movieverse's quicksilver pietro, old fic from tumblr, pietro is named peter, quicksilver - Freeform, reader interactive, the lil shit is still in high school
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-09-02 06:24:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16781404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yawa/pseuds/yawa
Summary: It's safe to safe that consuming of food inside the comfort room during class hours with a silver haired boy may lead to detention.





	Detained

You sat down on a chair far away the silver haired boy and began to write a five hundred word essay about the book Don Quixote of Miguel de Cervantes. You had to do something for the next hour to not allow the boredom seep into your system. Plus, this homework was due tomorrow, at least get it done so when this unnecessary torture was over, you could go straight to bed at home and rest. And maybe pretend this day didn’t go bad as it was.

The sight of students rushing to go home and going to their respective practices were displayed through the glass windows on the left side of the room you were detained in.

It was only you and Peter today in the detention room.

Correction: It was only you and Peter being detained today.

Mrs. Marble was the other person in the room. She was supposed to look after the both of you but she somehow managed to fall asleep while reading a trashy magazine.

God, you had to endure an extra hour in school because of Pietro- sorry, he preferred Peter-Maximoff. You hardly even knew that guy besides the fact he has a peculiar vibe going on around him- silver hair, alabaster skin, leather jacket that was silver, headphones around his neck, some wicked pair of silver shoes… And that he can get handsy on somethings. No, not in that kinky manner (but who knows how kinky can this dude go?) but in the sense of kleptomania.

Your head turned around to sneak a peak of him. He sat on the far side corner of the room in his black shirt that was overlaid with his jacket, his seemingly unnatural hair colour covered by a kids party hat.

He brought out a pack of Twinkies and some cafeteria stolen goods (a box of red velvet cake, tater tots, pizza, mac and cheese, some sloppy joe).

Is this dude nuts? You both got this punishment because of his love to get things that weren’t his and he’s going to eat them here?

You mentally applaud him. It took guts to do that crap he’s doing and he brought irony to this situation you guys were in. It puzzled your mind though on how he managed to get the food… Weren’t they confiscated from him?

He must’ve felt your gaze on him. Peter looked up from his act of opening the package of Twinkies. He gave you a shiteating grin and waved, Twinkie still in hand and the box of pizza on his desk. You quickly looked away- not before turning your eyes into slits that made you look weird but it was the only menacing looking you could muster -and busied yourself with the paper in front of you. A blush started to creep on your cheeks but you mentally willed yourself to let it fade because despite of him being cute with his rainbow party hat and grin, he still gave you the first detention of your life.

Soon enough you could smell the scent of pizza and Twinkie wafting. The pen left ink as it moved on the paper just like the smell of pizza was seducing your stomach to eat itself inside out because of its mouthwatering aroma.

You prayed to the heavens you wouldn’t go hungry because you told yourself earlier to not talk to Peter. As aforementioned, the both of you were here because of those sexy stolen food.

During fourth period World Literature earlier this day, you had gotten out of class to head to the bathroom for a time kill. Literature wasn't that terrible but your teacher’s voice was monotone and sleep inducing, you asked for permission to head out to the comfort room.

"You look like a zombie,“ a voice had broken the silence that blanketed the empty halls.

The voice belonged to a mischievous looking teenager, leaning against the cream coloured wall in the middle of the doors to the bathrooms.

Your siblings had been teasing you that you look like trash but a zombie? Did this unknown dude have to put it out there that there were unflattering black under your eyes?

You ignored him and moved closer to the bathroom that was labeled for females. A pale arm suddenly blocked your way.

“Aw, you’re gonna ignore me, princess? You seriously are a zombie. Not even acknowledging my presence.”

The princess comment went completely ignored, you calmly replied to him with your own question, “Is your presence even needed to be acknowledged?”

His pink lips had formed a smirk before mumbling something fast that you could not decipher.

’Whatever, willowy dude. Your thoughts aren’t worth a penny.’ You had thought at that moment. You pushed him away to enter the comfort room.

The door swung open as you turned the knob. You stepped inside, hoping the guy would bugger off.

No such luck because the guy had slipped inside as the door started to swing close, in a world record breaking time.

“But how…?” You started to question as he unexpectedly had food along with him.

“Oh, sush. Count your blessings, princess,” he waved his arm around like he was swatting a fly. There was a lot of food with him including a cake that said “Happy Birthday, Wilson!” which was the principal’s name. The food was suddenly placed all over the counter.

“This is the girl’s bathroom…” you lamely had said to him.

"So? I have goggles and my hair’s silver?“ He retorted and calmly produced a knife and sliced the cake. Has it been mentioned earlier? You must have forgotten. Peter had goggles with him and he claims he has it with him at all times.

“Right… Water is wet.” You nodded at him, staring as he cut the cake in a quick, even hand gestures.

“Bingo, correct-o, princess” he replied after licking some icing that got on his hand. The knife he had with him was gone in thin air. You tried looking for the knife nonchalantly but failed. Shock and curiosity was written all over you face. Peter noticed it but only chuckled at you then swiftly took the tool he placed on the school’s kitchen how many milliseconds ago.

A slice of cake was on left hand and the knife was on his right hand. You looked at him astonished but quickly shook your head.

“I am hallucinating. God.” You convinced yourself. Like, this dude had silver hair? Isn’t that a large neon warning sign for you by now? Maybe he made you sniff some drugs that kidnappers use to put the victim out of cautiousness or maybe, ecstasy? You haven’t eaten anything from his array of goodies.

“This is wonderland alright, princess.” He smirked at you. A black baseball cap was adorning his head at that time instead of a kid’s party hat. Despite that your cheeks was tinted pink you managed to spit out, “Stop calling me that,” to the interesting guy in front of you.

“Princess?” He asked you.

“Yeah, jerk. And get out of here. We might get into trouble.” The time kill you intended was short and brief not a long one but it doesn’t matter. You were sick of monotonous voices and pinching yourself to wake up. Was this skipping classes? You had the pass, though. You technically weren’t cutting classes.

“Why would like another nickname?”

You still were contemplating on whether or not this comfort room lounging past time was considered to be violating school rules when he continued talking, “Hm, honey? No, what about sugar? Cupcake?”

“Nah… sweetcheeks?” he paused and then laughed so hard he look like a maniac because you know… knife on his right hand and all.

“Sweetcheeks reminds me of buttcheeks and assholes.” He continued to laugh. This got your attention and honestly made you worry about this boy who confirmed that he was quite odd and frankly, you found out you didn’t mind because it was kind of a fresh air.

“What about eggs?” You deadpanned and then mentioned to him that he was going to a route of food related nicknames and down the rabbit hole.

“Oohhh! You could be Alice; I’ll be the Mad Hatter.” He grinned at you. The silver haired boy took a bite of the birthday cake which you are now sure that belonged to the principal.

He offered you the bitten cake and out of your “lacking judgment”, you took it and easily munched on the chocolate-y goodness. The principal may be bitter about some things all the time but his taste in cake sure was sweet.

“Pietro,” he introduced himself to you as a second (third?) bite was executed to the chocolate cake.

“Well… Actually don’t call me that. Call me Peter, or Pete,”

A hand was outstretched to you… A pale right hand minus the knife. Once again, you scanned the room on where the hell could the knife be but you simply let the notion of checking every stall go for the principal’s chocolate cake was so. good.

You swallowed the cake and replied with, “Y/N.”

You extended your left hand to him which was mildly covered with frosting as that was the hand with the cake earlier. The cake now took residence to your right hand.

Peter shook your frosting covered hand after commenting loudly, “The zombie has a name!” and gave a firm shake.

“I’m actually pretty disappointed that you aren’t Alice, though.”

"Scramble now, Peter. We’re gonna get caught soon because of your boisterous voice.“

He faced you with a lazy grin. "My voice? Boisterous? Get real,” he said really loudly like megaphone was built in his voice box.

"You took my slice of cake. Show some gratitude, Alice.“

A poker face was thrown to his way when he those words had escaped his lips.

"Peter, get out. Seriously. Gratitude my ass, we’re gonna be in trouble because of you.”

You had a little quarrel before the Principal, Mr. Wilson the birthday boy, caught the two of you. A stern glare was sent your way when he opened the bathroom door.

Your face had chocolate frosting in it despite the fact the food magically disappeared. You were pretty sure Principal Wilson had now the idea where his missing food had gone. But you so were not going to let this one drop; you were going to ask Peter about the disappearing trick he keeps on pulling.

“Ahh, happy birthday?” Peter had exclaimed and lamely threw his hands in the air.

Well, you guess it wasn’t entirely Peter’s fault but whatever.

You were already tired of writing the essay. The clock behind the sleeping figure of the detention moderator read 3:45 PM.

It only has been fifteen fucking minutes? Fifteen minutes passed by and the only thing you wrote on the leaf of paper was your name, date, and the title of your essay, Knighthood: Don Quixote’s Dying Goal, which was pretty dumb but meh.

You were grateful the principal gave you a short detention, though.

Paper balls flew across the room hitting your neck. Unless it was a spiritual entity, you were pretty sure it was Peter doing this.

Maybe Peter was a spiritual entity! How else could you explain the weird vanishing things?

He threw more little crumple wads of paper. You didn’t mind him and stared at your essay.

What would you write about Don Quixote? Should you write if who was fooled, Don Quixote or the people who jokingly knighted him?

You dumbly stared at your paper, letting your hand draw scribbles on the sheet of the intermediate pad.

This was getting boring. It was only eighteen minutes to your punishment and it was becoming tiring.

"You know,“ Peter’s loud raspy voice announced. "If I had to choose to spend an entire day with you and stung by five hundred bees forty eight times to death…”

You looked at him, waiting for him to finish his sentence.

"I’d choose spending time with you although you’re a boring zombie. Bees scare the living shit of me.“ He shivered at the thought of getting stung by multiple bees, multiple times.

You laughed at Peter and his confession.

"Hey, don’t be mean.” He fake pouted.

"Don’t worry, if I had to spend an entire day with you and cursed numerous times by Lord Voldemort…“

Peter looked expectantly at you with his pouted lips.

He looked absolutely ridiculous with a party hat on and those pouted lips… Just like a kid. Well, he seemed to be childish.

"I’d pick being hexed by Voldemort because hashtag goals, man!” You said a little louder than you meant. Mrs. Marble moved in her seat, still asleep, though.

"What? Ugh, Y/N, you are so mean.“

You only gave him an imaginary tip of your hat.

"If I had to choose to spend an entire day with you and drown in the River Styx, I’d pick the latter.” He stuck out his tongue at you.

"That’s unfair! I wanna come along!“ you exclaimed at his selfishness.

"But you’re mean,” he said in a kiddie manner. “Also, I would give you my party hat but like I said you’re mean so you have to deal with tipping imaginary hats!”

You glanced at the white clock that hung above.

3:52 PM.

’The remaining thirty eight minutes would pass by quickly.’ You thought as you turned your whole body around to face him without breaking your neck and preparing yourself for thirty eight minutes of food and childish banter in the detention room. Plus, you still have to ask him if he was a wizard or some sorts because how he was so fast or made things go away into thin air?

This was going to be one of hell of a party in the detention room.

**Author's Note:**

> Can we all agree that Peter Maximoff is adorkable? Also, I still often call X-Men's Quicksilver, Pietro, even though they call him Peter in the films, hehe.
> 
> Anyway! Thank you for reading this story and I hope you liked it! Its another repost from my tumblr that I want to share with you guys over here on ao3. Leave a kudos or a comment, if you wish, starshine!
> 
> Tumblr: trashyemonerd.tumblr.com  
> Twitter: twitter.com/sassgodjohnson


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